


Ye sons of Albion

by Eunoiabound



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Ficlets and drabbles, Gen or Pre-Slash, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 06:52:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3886486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eunoiabound/pseuds/Eunoiabound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ye sons of Ablion, rise to arms<br/>And meet that haughty band<br/>They threaten us with war's alarms<br/>And ruin to our land.</p><p>Ficlets, drabbles and character studies based on quotes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ye sons of Albion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never liked his name. But that doesn't mean it didn't suit him, at the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep on having ideas for what basically equate to just scenes, mostly inspired by something else, and not really enough for entire fic. I figured I might as well post them as a series of character studies and ficlets. Each chapter will have the quote that inspired it.

_“Must a name mean something?" Alice asked doubtfully._

_Of course it must," Humpty Dumpty said with a short laugh; "my name means the shape I am - and a good handsome shape it is, too. With a name like yours, you might be any shape, almost.”_   
_-Lewis Carroll_

* * *

 

 

Naming was a particular thing. You look at something just beginning it's journey and then to come up with a word that encompasses everything that they will and could be. Names have power, though not in any esoteric sense. There was no one true name for anyone; as a species humans were to changeable. There is no power in names other than what they are given, and yet.  

 He didn't like the name Gary. That did not mean that it did not suit him, at the core. 

He prefered Eggsy. Didn't remember where it came from, but it was his. Nothing behind the name in his mind but himself. No weight or expectations. He wondered, sometimes, if he would have felt the same seperation from his name if it was something like William. Protector seemed like a better name than spear. (A shield as opposed to a weapon. There was enough damage in his life without inflicting more. He wondered how much damage one could take before it became the only way to communicate, great sucking gashes bleeding from hollow chests, the heart the first thing to go. He wondered how close to the edge of being his own personal monster  he walked, how much of _Eggsy_ was actually a cage. He ignored how he felt the drag of razor edges and warm panting breath on the back of his neck. He wasn't there. Yet.)

He laughed at the idea of Kingsmen, gentlemen in their posh suits, fighting for the good of the world, the idea that being a gentleman was being a better version of themselves. He wondered how many of them felt the teeth on the back of the neck, the gaping hole in their chests, the blood on their hands. Thought that being a gentleman might be feeling all those things at once, but never giving in to the monster that clung to your spine. Keeping your monster caged, there's a good lad. Wouldn't want anyone to see the blood stains behind your eyes. 

Eggsy didn't know if there was a way to kill the monster inside of him. He had never managed to stop believing in the monsters beneath the bed, except for learning that they lived and breathed and sat on the couch while he hid in the dark and listened. Eggsy had never been much good at getting rid of monsters. He wished he could get rid of them for his mum and Daisy. But that wasn't who he was. Never had been a hero ready to swoop in and save the day. Always a little to late, hitting back a little to hard, taking one to many chances,lashing out even with those who would help. Couldn't let the monster get bored. That's when it wanted out the most.

His monster had cackled when Merlin had pointed out the dead girl floating. _One less body in his way, one less person to shred and tear and smile at with a chest hollowed from his monster waging within. One less person between him and a name with meaning._ Eggsy had never mentioned how much of the damage done was done by himself. He needed more than a mask to change who he was. He could never have followed 'Do unto others' because then the whole world would burn.  _  
_

Eggsy started to become more than a name with no meaning. It became a name of shoulders bumped with Roxy and sly glances behind Charlie's back when he was particularly snobby, it was getting Merlin to flare his nose and cock his head after being able to sneak into the infirmary one more time and getting JB up beside Harry. _Eggsy_ became a name that was more joy than pain, deep brown eyes and a red housecoat. Harry was everything was he was named. He was a home like Eggsy had never known. He was wise and kind, with his own monster ruthlessly under check. Eggsy wondered if it came after Harry was named Galahad. Galahad the pure, the last knight worthy of the Holy Grail. 

 Every monster he had ever seen had leered at him from Arthur's face as he was handed the gun and told to shoot his dog. But Eggsy had begun to change.  _Eggsy_ had started to mean something beyond a mask to hide from his monsters, to hide his monster. So he retreated behind  _Eggsy_ , refused to listen to the monster in front of him, tried to be more than the monster that bayed behind his eyes. But he saw the mocking smile as he lowered the gun, had turned and run to the place that he had begun to call home. 

It was more than the words that had broken Eggsy as he looked at Harry's face. _Can't you see that everything I've done, I've done for him?_ It was the destruction of _Eggsy_ , everything that he had allowed the name to come to mean. He had been in the process of becoming  _something_ ,  something he wasn't quite sure of, that he didn't think he would ever become again. As he had been, Eggsy had not been enough. He wondered if he had let himself been Gary, had not wanted so much to be something more than sharp edges wrapped in bits of rough and an council estate accent. Wondered if having teeth and baring them instead hiding them would have allowed him to keep what he wanted. A weapon, perhaps, but a sheathed one. Dutifully obeying a master, trusting someone else's word that the world should burn. Listening to Harry would mean not embarrassing him, maybe being able to stay. Eggsy would do anything to keep his home.

He felt everything shatter as he watched the feed from Harry's glasses. Was a mask not enough to keep the monsters away? Was this the kind of monster that Harry carried behind his eyes? When they had met it had seemed like Harry, as a Kingsmen, had his monster kept tightly under wraps, but that wasn't what Eggsy was seeing here. This was every single dream he had had about Dean, about Rottie and Poodle, every single nightmare since his dad had died without a reason. It was the red that painted the hollowness of his chest and rose up his throat in a silent scream. He saw the bullet, and wished it was that kind of movie, where the good guys won. (He just wasn't so sure of whose monsters were worse any more.) 

Eggsy felt the teeth on the back of his neck, the weight of the gun that had pointed at JB, the red maw that spun him laughing towards Dean after he had had seen his mother. He felt it churning out of control, and changing him. He danced and danced with death, and neither made a single wrong step. He tells Merlin to push a button and smiles when he sees them start to go off. The world is burning. It's an eye for an eye, Harry's dead and the whole world's going to pay. He's hitting back to hard, to fast and it doesn't matter any more. He's a weapon with a purpose, and he's a hero with bloody hands. The irony is sickening and makes perfect sense. It is exactly that kind of movie. 

Naming was such a peculiar thing.  Eggsy had tried, created himself out of London smoke and his mother's tears, blood spilled and disappointed eyes, but the truth was this.

He was better as a weapon. 

Eggsy was dead. Long live Galahad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that got a little dark. Hopefully some of the later ones will be more cheerful. Feel free to say hi on Tumblr, or drop me a prompt. I'm Eunoiabound over there as well.


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